The Five Stages of Grief
by LilMissLibra
Summary: Grief: keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret. After the Treaty of Kiel, Denmark and Iceland must both deal with their own grief.


1. Denial

"No way," Iceland whispered to himself outside the door to the meeting room. Norway had told him not to listen in on the negotiations, and now he understood why. Denmark wouldn't actually trade Norway for peace, would he? Of course he wouldn't. Denmark had fought so hard to keep them all together; he wouldn't give him up so easily.

"So you're going to trade me like a toy," came Norway's quiet and steady voice from the other side of the door. It was eerily calm, a sure sign that his anger was about to explode on the closest person. The Kalmar Union was nearly 500 years in the past now, but still Iceland couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What happens to Iceland? Greenland? Faroe Islands?"

"They'll remain in my care," Denmark said carefully. "That alright with you, Sweden? Have I given enough to you yet?"

"Mh," Sweden hummed in assent. What? What were they talking about?

"Those are _my_ colonies, Denmark. You can't just keep them." Iceland winced; he hated when they all fought, but he kept his ear pressed to the door anyway.

"They_ were_ your colonies, Norway, before we united under _my_ monarch."

Norway finally blew up, screaming profanities at everyone in the room, and Iceland fled to his bedroom. This couldn't be happening, there was just no way. They would fight, and it would be brutal, but in the end Norway would stay. Because Norway had cared for him ever since his people had begun settling on his island. He wouldn't give him up, and he wouldn't leave.

* * *

2. Anger

Norway was leaving, officially ceded to Sweden in exchange for Pomerania. Iceland hadn't thought it would really happen, and he was such an idiot for that.

"Iceland?" Norway called, knocking softly on the door to the young nation's bedroom. When Iceland ignored him, he entered the room anyway, a stern expression on his face. "Why are you avoiding me?"

Iceland didn't answer, instead studying the book on his desk carefully. Norway yanked his chair back, almost making him topple over. "What the hell?" he shrieked when he regained his balance.

"You have a lot of nerve to ignore me like that," Norway said lowly. "I know I raised you better than that." He wasn't messing around today, Iceland could tell. He knew he should behave himself, but he just couldn't bring himself to.

"What does it matter? Last time I checked, you don't own me anymore." Norway placed his hands on Iceland's shoulders, narrowing his eyes.

"Do you think I asked for this? To be negotiated over like an object? To lose everything I worked so hard to build?"

"You could have tried harder! You could have forced Den to let me go with you! I know you could have, and you would have, if your stupid pride hadn't gotten in the way!"

There was a smack, and pain spread across his face, bringing tears to his eyes. Norway glared at him dangerously.

"Don't speak of things you don't understand, Iceland."

Once Iceland had seen Denmark slap Norway like that, so he mimicked Norway's response, spitting at his former caretaker. Norway's face twisted in anger, and he raised his hand again. However, he suddenly paused, seeming to understand what his former colony was doing. He turned and walked out of the room and out of Iceland's life.

Later that day when Denmark saw the bright red mark on Iceland's cheek, he didn't ask what had happened. He only offered to make a cold compress for him. "But I'll warn you, I'm not as good at that kind of stuff as...Well, I suppose it's my job now."

A few months later, Norway declared independence and went to war against Sweden. Denmark never received Pomerania, because Sweden accused him of helping Norway rebel. For a long time, all he and his colony felt was anger.

* * *

3. Bargaining

"Maybe if I had fought harder," Denmark said softly one morning during breakfast. "Hell, I should have known better than side with Napoleon." He gave a sigh so heavy that it seemed to summarize every bad thing that had happened in the past few centuries. Iceland felt himself sigh as well, but it was merely an echo of the older nation's. After months, his anger was deflating quickly, leaving him with the feeling of helplessness.

"Maybe if I were more self-sufficient, he would have taken me with him," he said quietly.

Denmark slammed a fist onto the table, making his colony jump. "This is all that Russia's fault. If he hadn't taken Finland, Sweden wouldn't even want Norway."

_There was nothing we could have done, and there's nothing we can do to change things. _The thought crept into Iceland's mind, and he suddenly felt so cold and empty. "Den?" he said barely above a whisper.

"Mh?"

"I didn't even say goodbye to him."

His caretaker sighed again. "I didn't either."

* * *

4. Depression

Iceland awoke with tears running down his face. He had had another dream about the fight with Norway. _How could I have acted that way towards him? He was the one who raised me and supported me. And now he's gone._ He rolled onto his side and curled into himself. He didn't care if Denmark heard him crying; he had seen the older nation cry plenty of times in the past few months.

If Norway were here, he would stroke Iceland's hair softly and sing his colony back to sleep. Except Iceland was no longer his colony. Norway and Sweden had come to an agreement; Norway got to keep his constitution, but he had to remain in a union with the other nation. Iceland sobbed harder; he wasn't coming back.

* * *

5. Acceptance

Iceland heard sniffling coming from Denmark's study. Normally he would keep walking, pretending not to hear the man that was supposed to be in charge of him breaking down. But a thought gave him pause: why did they have to grieve separately? They were both experiencing the same pain, weren't they? He opened the door and silently slipped in.

Denmark was slumped over his desk, head in his hands and shoulders shaking. Iceland noticed a letter opened in front of him and instantly recognized the address. He had a few of those under his pillow, tear stained, wrinkled, and memorized word for word. He leaned down awkwardly, wrapping his arms around those wide shoulders.

"I-Ice?" Denmark said shakily.

"I'm still here," he responded. "Norway is gone, but I'm still here."

Denmark gave a tiny laugh, turning in his seat and pulling his colony into a tight hug.

"You're right," his said quietly. "I'm sorry I've been neglecting you."

Iceland shook his head, unable to find the words to respond. To tell him that it was alright, or at least it was going to be alright, because if nothing else they had each other. Their foreheads touched, and they cried for all the things they had lost. Then their lips touched, and the kiss tasted salty and bitter. But things would get easier little by little, and they would help each other to get stronger. They would take things day by day. Together.


End file.
